Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

I don’t know, but I’m being Miss Agreeable tonight, so I slide my feet the rest of the way out of
my heels and tentatively lift them as I turn on the seat. Calvin takes my legs in a gentle but firm grip
and drapes them across his lap.
I’m following what he’s doing, but I’m still confused. I’m confused as he slides his palm up the
inside of my calf and rubs, confused when he starts massaging my feet, even more confused when he
does all this without first removing my pantyhose, which seems necessary if he planned to turn this
sexual.
Once the confusion ebbs and I accept that he really is giving me a foot massage in the back of his
limousine, I start to relax. I feel tingles when he lightens his touch and just skims my skin with his
fingertips, relief when he puts some muscle into it and eases all the tension and aches from my body.
That part doesn’t seem to take very long, but I’m still enjoying his hands on my body, and he must
be too, because he keeps rubbing even after he has alleviated my discomfort.
His touches are predominantly light now. My eyes drift closed as I enjoy the sensations, but I can
feel him watching me. Paying attention to everything—my breathing, the noises I make.
Sitting up with my legs across his lap felt awkward, so at some point during the massage, I
reclined on the seat. My whole body feels more relaxed. The languidness doesn’t abandon me when I
feel the fabric of my sheath dress being pushed up, or the thin barrier of my pantyhose dragged down.
My pussy pulses when Calvin moves to his knees on the seat and pushes my thighs open. All
that’s covering me is that little scrap of mesh and string. His palms skim my inner thighs, then he
hooks his fingers in the strings and drags those off, too.
I’m naked from the waist down. It’s nighttime, but the city lights provide plenty of light so he can
look down at me and see everything.
I expect him to fuck me now. I don’t expect him to lean down and kiss his way up the insides of
my thighs. I don’t expect him to lift my ass off the seat and drape my legs over his shoulders so he can
bury his face between my thighs and devour my pussy, either, but that’s what happens.
His mouth doles out pleasure tonight because I don’t fight it. I twist and writhe and cry out as he
drags his tongue over my clit again and again, but it’s not because I want him to stop.
Rapture is close and I want it, bad.
That’s when he pulls out.
Makes me beg.
Undoes his pants and pulls out his cock.
“Beg for it,” he commands.
And I do. Oh, I do. I want it. Need it. There’s an aching void inside my body and I need him to
fill it. I’d lock my heels around his ass and pull him into me if he were close enough.